Starla's Shadowy Nightmare
by Ktanaqui
Summary: Starla's Shadowy Nightmare is about a female Eevee, just born. This is a minor horror story and it does have a bit of gore in it, so please... If you're faint of heart, don't read it. I do accept criticism and look forward to hearing from you. Oneshot
1. Starla's Shadowy Nightmare OneShot

Author Note: This was actually one of the first stories I had ever written. It is edited a bit from its original format, and it has been "updated" in a sense. Revamped, we'll go with that. I wrote the story, or at least, the beginning of it when I was in sixth grade. I'm now a Junior at high school, so I figured I should make the story make a bit more sense, and flow better. I hope everyone likes it, and if not... please, do not be afraid to tell me so. I would love to hear from those that read my stories. And I take criticism very well. If you do not want to use the review system here, or have another reason, feel free to e-mail me at X_Ktanaqui_. And again, enjoy the story. It is fairly short though...

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Starla's Shadowy Nightmare....

Just a wee thing, Starla had just opened her eyes. However, she did not like it when she did. Life was a nightmare. She wished she could close her eyes again, but her soft fur and her opal eyes could not go back. Back to when her eyes were closed and the only things that mattered were the milk, mom, and sleep.

"Mom!" her thoughts screamed. her mom was gone. "Mom!" Again, the thought reverberated. Where was her mom? The warm fuzzy happy filling was gone, her vulnerable little body filled with fear. Unrecognizable scent. Instinct to run. That scent! Death was near. "Mom!" The single lonely thought reverberated through her head, cold and clear. In its wake, it sowed fear. Cold, undeniable fear.

No sounds, just that scent of death. Alone? No, not alone. Sounds now, coming near. Heartbeats? No, just one. Breating. Definite breathing besides her own. Something touching her. Warm, sort of. Scaly. Her small body lifted up and pressed against another body.

"Alive definitely. Newborn, probably needs milk." Quiet mutterings filled the silence.

"Milk? Mom?" She crawled closed to that warm being. It has Mom. Safe. It has Milk. She nuzzled closer.

"Cute. Get it back to the base."

"Ba-se?" her thoughts mimicked tiredly.

"Milk first."

Scaly paws peeling her away. One paw now. Something warm pressed to her face. "Milk?" Eager movements before eager suckling. Milk rushes down he throat to soothe the hunger knawing at her belly. Full. Slowing down. "Sleep..." the new lonely thought before sleep steals her away into unconciousness.

Conciousness breaks as dawn brings the new sun. Her eyes open. The Nightmare comes.

"She's awake!" That voice. Milk.

"Milk? Mom?" Two thoughts now, not so lonely.

A strange new creature comes near. Orange. It lifts her: that famliar scaly feeling. She looks up into his face. But the nice voice is gone. The eyes are filled with hate.

Scared of the hatred in his eyes, she cowers. He throws her in a box. She falls on her side. Pain tears across her side from the impact. The instinct to run is back but she can go nowhere.

Something pale walks up. It, this strange new being, speaks a strange language, "Make her a Shadow Pokemon."

"Sh-A-Dow." Her mind enunciates. She cowers in the corner of her box. This new creature is strange and mean, filled with hate too. It speaks a foreign language, which she understands little of.

Another pale creature comes. Lifting the box, it carries her to a large humming machine. The moving jostles her, scaring her further as he plugs the box into the machine.

"Snap!" it clicks into place and she jumps, bumping her head.

"Now. Start the process." Paleface number two speaks.

She cowers in her box. The air around her seeps out. Her lungs burn as she tries to breathe in fresh oxygen. She cries out as agony pierces her being and she collapses to the ground, convulsing.

New to this world, so young, her conciousness is taken from her. Her body continues to twitch and convulse as every concious thought seeps away.

And then she awakens. The world is clearer. Hungry. The scent of blood. Food. She wants it. And there it is, thrown into the box. A small furry thing. Trembling and cowering, it squeals in distress as she pounces on it.

Skin and meat torn from bone, the Buneary continues to cry in agony as it bleeds out.

Blood covers her muzzle, hate glints in her eyes. Ferocity is plain, as her growls communicate.


	2. Snippets

Um.. I'm thinking about writing a second story like this. It would be another Starla based story, maybe not necessarily nightmare-y or shadow-y but kind of like a Starla mini-series. A few snippets..

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Starla ran through the grass, pouncing on every dandelion she saw. As little clouds of seeds from the dandelions spread through the air, she sneezed. Ktanaqui grinned, watching her small Eevee and jogged to catch up....

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Starla stopped dead, shortly before the dark forest. It loomed over her, casting shadows every which way. She stepped into the border and was immediately swathed in the shadows that the trees cast. From the outside, she would look merely like another shadow, dancing back and forth as the wind blew through the leaves of the trees.

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Around her, the wind blew. Leaves danced and swirled as it passed. Ktanaqui stood nearby, watching the small Eevee and the winds and leaves. A song crossed her mind, from a movie she watched once. Colors of the Wind, from Pocahontas. Starla had lain there and watched the entire movie with her. Now, she was living it.

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OK, so should I do more? Should I make full stories of these snippets, or what?


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